


Fulminology

by Humanity_Sucks2002



Series: Bellamort One-Shots [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Oneshot, Post-Azkaban Comfort, Second War with Voldemort, Thunder and Lightning, Two bad people bonding over lightning ok, Watching Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanity_Sucks2002/pseuds/Humanity_Sucks2002
Summary: Bellatrix had always loved thunderstorms. Having been out of Azkaban a couple of weeks, a thunderstorm hits Malfoy Manor. In the darkness, the Dark Lord caught her sneaking out to watch the storm from the roof, and Bellatrix convinced him come and watch it with her.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort
Series: Bellamort One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188704
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Fulminology

It was a dark and stormy night- the type of night Bellatrix loved most. Whenever a storm hit, Bella would stand by a window and watch, transfixed, as the lightning would get closer and closer. Pre-Azkaban Bellatrix would have been content to just watch but since her release it just hadn’t been enough. Fourteen years of sitting in her cell and watching the lightning flash outside had made the experience a little less special for her: The North Sea was renowned for its storms. Now she needed something more to get that adrenaline kick she needed.

The first storm Bellatrix had experienced in Azkaban had been in her second week there. The middle of December, the sun had set at 3:30pm and none of the cells had any lights. Moans and wails of despair (permeated with the odd cackle or shriek) floated on the air around Bellatrix. The wind brought news of a storm- Bellatrix could feel it in her bones. The air had a smell to it, a compressing feeling, it was unmistakeable. The sea and sky were almost the same colour, so dark and inky that Bellatrix could hardly tell where the horizon was. It was a never-ending wall of blackness.

Prison dress whirling about her frame, unkempt hair doing the same, Bellatrix stood at the slit window. Her face was pressed to the hole, only giving one eye a clear view. The other eye was squeezed shut. She was a coiled spring; waiting and hoping for that first flash of light to set the whole symphony off. It only needed one. Strangely, it reminded her of her of her training with the Dark Lord. That first zap of light, that first dark curse, and it set off the whirlwind that was brewing within her. The fury, the power, the skill, all hidden within the frame of a fragile young woman. Perhaps that’s why she was drawn to the storm? All storms must end through- they often fizzle out. Lightning becomes further and further apart before eventually ceasing all together. An unsuitable ending for such a wonderful beginning. Bellatrix could not accept that she was a storm for that very reason. She would go out handsomely- when she did. And Bellatrix didn’t intend to go out any time soon. This little stint was just a setback. The Dark Lord would come soon- she had no fear on that front.

CRACK! The fork of lightning leapt out of the black sky and exploded somewhere off into the sea. Joy, just like the lightning, alight her heart and sent sparks of adrenaline exploding through her veins. She was electric. For the first time since her capture, a smile flew across her face. Just as she had done when she was a little girl, watching the sky from her bedroom window, Bellatrix counted the seconds between the bolt and the thunder. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. Seven seconds before the growl of the thunder. It was so loud that even the wailing prisoner became silent. All were in awe of the power of nature. Then came the next bolt- even more violent and significantly closer than the last. 1. 2. 3- and the thunder rattled Bellatrix’s bones. She shook like a leaf but it wasn’t fear that caused such a reaction. It was joy, hope even. This great intrusion of electricity showed it could be done. You could get into Azkaban and that is what the Dark Lord would do. All she had to do was wait.

The next lightning bolt was directly outside the slit window- she didn’t have time to count the seconds as one moment she was at the window and the next she’d been catapulted across the room by the sheer force of the lightning. She felt burnt, her shoulder had taken the force of her weight as it hit the stone wall but Bellatrix didn’t care. She’d been so close to it! Cackling madly, Bellatrix lay there, waiting for the thunder. As if on cue, the dementors swarmed her- sucking out all the joy she’d experienced with this encounter. Bellatrix lay there, surrounded by the beasts, hoping that there would be another storm before the Dark Lord came for her.

There had been many storms. Too many to remember. Nothing ever came close to that first one, figuratively and literally. Here there was another storm, and it was setting up to be a big one, and she didn’t have the sea to observe. Instead she was at Malfoy Manor, in Wiltshire. Surrounded on all sides by rolling, English countryside, there was no clear view of the horizon. That would do no good. She needed to see it. She needed to see all of it.

Cissy would have been angry with her if they knew what she was doing, but Bellatrix didn’t care. She was done being an invalid. Fourteen years in one room! She needed to move! Her legs delicate, fragile, like a new-born foal, Bellatrix slipped from her bed and padded out of the room. There was only one spot in the manor that Bellatrix was certain she would be able to see the entire storm: the roof.

Creeping slowly, Bellatrix moved without a candle. She didn’t need one. She had every part of the house memorised – down to the creaks in the floorboards and which doors squeaked and which didn’t. All her mind was focused on was reaching the specific window on the top floor that she could use to get out onto a closed off balcony. It led to a drainpipe, a gutter and then she would be out.

Bellatrix did not expect to meet anyone in the dark. She was half way up the grand staircase when a voice called out to her from a corner.

“What are you doing out of bed Bellatrix?” He asked, coldly. She spun around on one foot, wobblily, and looked around for him. It took her a moment, his black robes blended into the night. Red eyes glinting in the dark – was there really a glow to them, or was the dark playing tricks with her eyes? Overwhelmed at seeing him, she threw herself into a bow at his presence.

“You startled me, my lord!” Bellatrix’s shock came out in a harsh whisper.

“That does not answer the question.” His voice was still cold. Aside from his eyes, she could not see his face.

They had not been alone since her release. He had come to her bedside, to check that she was recovering, however someone else had always been in the room. Narcissa, or Draco, or one of her cousins from the Rosier side. There had been no discussion of anything other than ‘good to see you’re on the mend Bellatrix’. There had been no talk of the first war, or what he had done in the meantime, or what had really happened that terrible Halloween night, or any plans he had for battles in the future. Nothing.

It hurt her. Not being able to speak to him, like they had done before, felt like a kick in the gut. It felt like being brushed aside, like he had only come to rescue her just because the others were there too. Like she wasn’t special. Like all that had happened between them during the first war meant nothing.

“Sorry, my lord.” Bellatrix ducked her head down and had her hands clasped behind her back. “I was going to the roof.”

“Why would you need to go to the roof at three O’clock in the morning?” His tone softened a little, from suspicion to a form of confusion. Quite an ironic question, Bellatrix thought: what was he doing lurking in dark corridors at three o’clock in the morning?

“I want to watch the storm.” She heard a crack of thunder from outside, and Bellatrix was itching to watch it. It was close. Jumpy, she was torn between throwing herself towards him and dashing up the stairs before the storm ended. She did neither and stood, a statue, on the staircase. He stepped forward out of the darkest shadows. He lent slightly on the guardrail of the staircase; eyes fixed on her intently.

“Can you not do that in your bedroom?”

“I cannot see the horizon from there, my lord.” She explained, feeling a bit silly now that she was saying it out loud. Childish. What did he think of her, rescuing a barely breathing corpse then seeing her behaving like this? She wondered whether he would even want her fighting alongside him again. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to her anymore!

“You’ve always liked storms.” He said with a smile that relieved the tension. Breathing a little more freely, Bellatrix returned the smile and unclasped her hands.

“Yes, my lord.” She nodded. Pausing, Bellatrix considered something for a moment, before making a decision. She could kill two birds with one stone here: get him to speak to her again, and watch the lightning. “Would you like to come with me?” She offered.

He paused, a silence falling between them. Bellatrix’s heart was in her throat: she was terrified that he would decline, reject her and send her back to bed, alone, like a naughty child, and she would get neither of her desires.

“How do you get onto the roof?” He asked, instead, sounding interested.

“There is a balcony on the third-floor, and it is easy to climb up from there.” She had discovered it years ago, during Narcissa’s wedding actually. It had been later on, most of the guests had left, Rodolphus had passed out drunk, and Bellatrix was bored. She’d sat on the ridge. The long skirts of her bridesmaid’s dress flowed down the slates of the roof as she watched the guests leaving, trickling out like raindrops. She’d been up regularly since then, barring her time in Azkaban of course.

“Wouldn’t want you to fall.” The Dark Lord said, in a contemplative tone. “It would be quite the waste of time retrieving you from Azkaban, if you were to break your neck tonight.”

“I will be very careful, my lord.” Bellatrix insisted. The Dark Lord sighed, sensing, it seemed, that her mind was made up. She was desperate to watch the storm. Silently, he began to climb the stairs after her. The only way that she could tell that he was moving was the sight of his eyes rising as he took each step.

“Well, lead the way, Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix was standing on the edge of the balcony when a lightning bolt struck one of the Malfoy family oaks. It was like a spotlight had been shone on the unfortunate plant, then, with the thickest bolt of lightning that Bellatrix had ever seen, the tree practically exploded. Branches crackled and spiralled out everywhere over the manicured lawn that Lucius was so proud of. A crack split up the middle of the great trunk, as the innards of the tree was set ablaze before the bark of the tree did. The plasma died down, and just lead straight into normal fire.

Awestruck, Bellatrix was quiet for a moment but laughed madly, as the garden glowed orange. Below her in the light from the burning tree, she could see a fox rooting around in the bins. It was startled by the sound of her, and made direct eye-contact with her before darting off towards the garden.

She swayed, her body falling forward into the abyss then stumbling back, laughing the whole time. This was the kind of adrenaline she was looking for. Nothing could be better than nearly toppling off the roof: the kind of head-spinning, vertigo inducing, blood pumping madness that reminded her that she was indeed still alive.

The Dark Lord did not find this as fun as Bellatrix did. As she wobbled forwards, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her backwards. She had not expected him to do this and, as she looked over her shoulder to see why he had done so, the look on his face told her that he had not expected to do that either. He muttered something about how a fall from this height would be unpleasant, and let go of her again.

“Thank you.” Bellatrix said with a smile, then gestured to the drainpipe with her head. “Got to climb the pipe.”

He looked dubiously at said pipe, which even Bellatrix had to admit did not look all that sturdy. There was ivy growing up it, rust flaking off into the leaves. Further along the roof, the same pipe was cracked and water came trickling out of it. The gutters were overflowing with moss. Clearly, it had been a while since the Malfoy’s had this part of the roof maintained.

“That doesn’t look safe.”

“Eh, I’m sure it will be fine, my lord.” Bellatrix shrugged, and began her climb. She weighed very little and, while it made a nasty creak, the pipe held her. Not exactly gracefully, but thoroughly enjoying herself, Bellatrix scrambled up onto the roof. She called out to him that she was up safe when she was. A small huff of laughter was the only response.

The sky was purple. Ranging from lilac to near black, the clouds hung low and vibrant over Malfoy manor. Forest, hills and buildings around the house were nothing but silhouettes against the angry sky. Leaning her head backward until the base of her head touched her shoulders, stretching out her arms wide, Bellatrix took in the view. She breathed in, smelling nature’s tension in the air. The wind whipped her nightdress around her, like the sails of a ship sailing into a storm.

The Dark Lord did not climb the pipe. Instead, he flew up from the balcony and landed on the roof behind Bellatrix. She was too enraptured with the sky to notice that he had just broken the laws of physics. In fact, she didn’t notice that he was there with her until he cleared his throat. Then she turned and smiled, still unaware, and said that there is a flat bit to sit and watch from by the chimney. He nodded, and gestured with his left hand for her to go first. 

In her balancing act walking towards the chimney breast, Bellatrix watched intently for the next crack of electricity. She was very nearly electric herself: ready to pounce and any moment. The Dark Lord behind her, watched her intently, studying her reactions to the sky. Reaching the spot – that had been made like that to aid the cleaning of the chimney, when such a thing needed to be done – Bellatrix sat down, hugging her knees close to her as she did so, eyes trained upwards. It was big enough for them both to sit, even more so given Bellatrix’s current frailness, and the Dark Lord sat next to her. He did not mimic her sitting position though, instead opting to just have his legs stretched out, resting on the roof below them. Quickly, Bellatrix cast a quick charm to prevent the lightning from seeking them out, and she settled down to watch the show.

“Why do you like to watch storms Bellatrix?” He asked, as they waited for the storm to build up steam again. He didn’t look at her directly as he asked this, instead looking from the corner of his eye.

“It is the rawest power nature shows us on the regular. Its mother nature reminding us that she is completely in control, really.” She replied honestly with a nostalgic smile, thinking about all the storms she had seen in her life. How she had been thrown from one side of the cell to the other. How the animals always knew that it was time to get shelter. How the devastation looked afterward. That oak, the one that was still burning, would be beautiful in the morning. “I could only dream of being so powerful.”

There was a pause between them then, where Bellatrix wondered whether she had annoyed him.

“When you are back to full health, I am sure you will be.” He said, finally, in a tone that Bellatrix could not quite place. Still, the compliment had her jittery: it had been so long since he’d given her a compliment. Years. Decades.

A slash of lightning lit up the sky just over the hill, exactly where it hit was shrouded by a barn, a little way off in the distance.

“Thank you, my lord,” she blushed, pushing her hair behind her ears, “but I think you are the only person who could ever challenge nature herself.”

“I have missed your loyalty, Bella.” He did look at her then, with what looked to her like a genuine smile. The sound of her nickname, the first time he had said it since her release, had her heart soaring. She couldn’t help but grin.

“I have missed _you_ , my lord.”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could get it out, the storm decided it was her time to shine. The thunder from the last lightning bolt had reached them, and overpowered everything. There was no sound other than the rumbling of the sky. There was a good reason why the ancients thought that it was a sign that their gods were angry, Bellatrix thought.

He decided not to speak, instead focusing on the show that mother nature was putting on for them. Bellatrix didn’t mind. They sat together, close but not quite touching, spectating.

The storm did not disappoint. The clouds glowed fluorescent when the actual bolt could not be seen behind trees, or other buildings. The thunder that accompanied this beauty had Bellatrix’s teeth chattering, the sound so powerful it got into her bones. Feeling more human than she had in years, Bellatrix gasped as a bolt slashed through the sky, in the same shape as a killing curse, hit the Malfoy manor’s lake. The water glowed in the instant when it had it it, and Bellatrix wondered whether the koi fish Narcissa had bragged about (mainly bragged about how expensive they were really) were dead or not. The Dark Lord seemed impressed by that bolt too, saying nothing, but his eyes widened and mouth fell open a little.

Before Azkaban, Bellatrix would have scooted closer to him and he would have allowed it. She would have leant her head against his shoulder, and he would have put his arm around her. He may have kissed her; they may have gone to bed when the storm was over. The affair they had maintained throughout the first war had been quiet, understated, subtle so as to make sure that nobody would have any reason to think it was happening. That situation was better for both of them: him having a reputation for clinical misanthropy to maintain and Bellatrix being married to someone else. She’d loved it. She loved him. She missed that relationship desperately. But she was cautious to make the first move now. They had both changed, they were both different people now. She was unsure of how he would react if she was to try.

“I came back from the brink of death;” He spoke, voice low, and dark, between flashes of light. Bellatrix realised that he was trying to talk to her properly. The conversation that she had been desperate to have since her rescue was here, and she was ready. She put her knees down from her chest, stretching, and turned so that she was directly facing him, her back leaning against the chimney stack. He didn’t turn, instead remaining exactly where he was. “I had been in this new body for less than ten minutes and I summoned my followers.”

There was a flash in the courtyard next to him, eliminating the Dark Lord properly for the first time that evening and, for that split second, Bellatrix could see how much he had changed. Skin unnaturally pale, red eyes, nose all but gone, slightly taller and thinner than he had been before. His face however was not completely different; eyes had stayed the same shape, as had his lips and cheekbones. His voice was the same. The feel of his magic in the air had stayed the same. In the light of the most violent and beautiful part of nature she knew of, Bellatrix thought that he looked magnificent. All of him was magnificent.

“I felt it, my lord.” Bellatrix nodded and remembered.

“I forgot that you were locked up in the madness of it all.” He admitted. “The memory only returned to me when I saw the empty space where you would have been when everyone assembled.” Pausing a little, to let the thunder pass. Bellatrix clung onto his every word. “It felt very wrong that you were gone.”

“I tried to follow the mark.” She told him and he turned his head, quite sharply, to look at her when she said it. There was a look of concern in his eyes, and Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel a little better with the knowledge that he was worried for her. “The wards made me splintch, then the dementors descended. But I didn’t care then. I was in a weird mindset. It wasn’t to their tastes, so they backed off.” She shrugged, unable to change the past.

“What do you mean?”

“I was euphoric, but I was miserable.” It was such a strange feeling at the time – after so long feeling numb and suddenly there so much emotion, it was unbearable. She had almost appreciated the dementors then, after so long in there being feasted upon felt more normal than actually feeling something. It had been the start of things changing when they had left her alone, not enjoying the emotion she was giving out. She had known then that the time was nearly here that she would be out of the prison, and back onto the battle field. Back to him. 

“Why?”

A massive lightning strike drew both of their attention before she could answer. It hit the weathervane atop the other wing of the house and sent sparks spiralling across the roof. The Dark Lord blocked them quickly, quicker than Bellatrix could have gotten to her wand, given that she had sat on it, as the thunder enveloped them. it was so close that the sound was instantaneous upon the strike. There was no need for counting.

A couple of seconds passed in silence, more shock really as it getting so close, before Bellatrix answered his question. But answer she did, as she did not want to let this conversation end.

“Because then I knew for certain that you were back.” She explained, then quickly added, just in case he thought otherwise: “I always knew you were still alive, in my gut, but this was confirmation that was tangible.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes.

“I wish I could have given you more signs Bella.” There was definingly regret in his voice.

“You did what you could, my lord – ” She said, comfortingly, “I was delighted when I saw that the mark was burning. I was miserable that I could not be by your side.”

The Dark Lord looked at her, unreadably for a moment, then opened his arm out for her to sit close to him. Gesturing with his head, he wordlessly offered her the closeness she had not had in fourteen years. A sharp intake of breath was the only noise she made. Terribly excited, Bellatrix scooted down the roof to sit with him.

His body temperature was lower than it had been, he was thinner, far more serpentine than before, but Bellatrix did not care. She rested her head on his shoulder, hesitantly to begin with as she was wary that he may be testing her some way. This tension was released however, when he wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting on her elbow. 

It was awkward: there was no way it couldn’t have been really, when it had been so long since they had been together before. Changed people, they had to get to know one another again. But there was a willingness to try. A genuine wish to get back to where they had been before and what else could be done, really?

How difficult would it be to get there, she thought? Many things were different, that could not be denied, but they were still themselves. He was still an aspiring warlord and leader of the movement, she was still a soldier, his best lieutenant as he had called her once. There was still a war to be fought. She was still a married woman, sneaking behind her husband’s back, and he was viewed as more inhuman than ever. The reasons for the secrecy was still there. Perhaps they could just pick up where they had left off?

“Bella...I have great plans for the movement and you are a key part of those plans.” He said, into her hair. It felt wonderful to be that close to him again. So focused she was on the way his hand felt on her skin, Bella barely even registered the lightning strike that hit behind them. 

“I’m glad to be included, my lord.”

“Not including you would be asinine.” There was a hint of flirtation in his voice, which forced a smirk onto Bellatrix’s face. The tone went more serious as he continued to speak. “But, because of this, I do need you to focus on recovery.” His hand travelled from her elbow to her wrist, surveying how bony she still was, and the prominence of her wrist and knuckles. She nodded; she was getting better. She was becoming healthier every day. It would just take time.

“Are you asking me not to go running about on roofs after tonight?” She asked, with a jokey tone, trying to lighten the mood a little. It worked, and he smiled.

“Yes, because you breaking your neck would be quite unpleasant for me.”

“It would be for me as well too.” Bellatrix pointed out, with a giggle.

“Well, you would be dead, so probably not.” He said, dryly.

“Fair.” She laughed a little. He did too. “I have missed being in battle.” She took his hand in hers, and dragged her fingers over the callouses on his hands where he had spent years gripping a wand in battle.

“I have missed seeing you in battle, you are quite the sight.” He said, softly, his head leaning against her own, and his lips a little behind her ear. A pleasant tingle went up her spine, and she held his hand up close to her heart. His thumb rested against her knuckles, dragging it back and forth.

“You don’t know how much that means to me, to hear you say that.” Her voice was barely heard over a crack of thunder they were oblivious to. It had taken a backseat; this reconnection feeling more important. He did hear it though and Bellatrix could sense the smile on his face. “I will need to brush up on my abilities though, I’ll be a bit rusty after all this time.” As much as she was loath to admit it, she had to admit the truth. It wasn’t like she’d been able to train in her cell. She hadn’t been able to keep up her skills without a wand. In the beginning, Bellatrix had tried to at least keep her body fit while in the ‘predicament’ – but that too had fallen to the wayside after a while.

“I’m sure muscle memory will do a lot of it for you.”

“I hope so.” She really hoped so. She did not want to disappoint him. She did not want to make him think that rescuing her was a mistake, or a waste of resources.

“Do you want me to train with you again, Bella?” He asked, something like affection in his face, in his voice.

“Oh, would you?” Bellatrix was genuinely surprised that he had offered.

He had trained her in the dark arts when she had first become a deatheater. Actually, he had trained most of the deatheaters (in a group setting) but he had seen so much potential in her that he had decided to train her privately. They had gotten closer and closer the more he had trained her. He'd first kissed her in a training session. He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone else while they were in those training sessions. As the war raged, consuming more and more of their lives, those sessions had become further and further apart until they had stopped all together. The storm had ended, so slowly they had barely noticed. Bellatrix had spent a lot of time in Azkaban thinking about that.

They were in the middle of a new war now – Bellatrix was surprised that he was offering to take time out of his day to help her.

“I would enjoy that immensely.” Was his response.

She couldn’t help herself then, the fear was gone, and all she felt was love. She said nothing. Instead, she reached upwards and kissed him. Swift, chaste and sweet, it was over quickly and she pulled back. For a split second, he froze, looking down at her, surprised that she had been so bold. That surprise did not last long though, and he leant down to kiss her again. Purring against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself in closer. One of his hands was on her face, the other on the small of her back. 

All around them, the storm raged, but received no viewership from them. The lightning may have illuminated the two sorcerers, Bellatrix didn't need light to truly see him. The thunder may make the very foundations of the house quake, but she could survive anything that was thrown at her. 

Things were going to be ok – Bellatrix felt it in her blood. They were going to be fine, more than fine, they were going to win. This was a new beginning, a new dawn and, so long as she was there, on the front lines, in his inner circle, in his arms, it was going to be a success. And now, as they separated and sat wrapped up together on that cold, dark roof, Bellatrix truly was on top of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> The science of lightning is called fulminology. I’m very mad that it doesn’t have a cooler name than that gotta be honest. Wanted something from post-azkaban these two and sat watching a storm the other day, so hope you enjoy :)


End file.
